


Cover Me(You)

by techieturnover



Series: Tumblr prompt Fills [2]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Fuck as a proper noun, Gen, feelings about hats, mild violence (for anne)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25699171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/techieturnover/pseuds/techieturnover
Summary: They both spot it - Jack moves at the same time she does. Her old hat lies next to the body of the man she’d sliced open.
Series: Tumblr prompt Fills [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1863628
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13





	Cover Me(You)

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Someone gets a new hat & non romantic Anne Bonny/Jack Rackham

“Behind you - ” Anne ducks instinctively as Jack’s voice reaches her - just in time to miss a blade swinging where her neck had been moments before. She shifts and whirls, blade catching her opponent in the stomach as he tries to recover. No recovering from that one, she thinks, and he falls. Half a breath to clutch his swiftly spilling guts before her second cut slices him from throat to belly, finishing the job. 

There isn’t a moment between this kill and the next - they’re fighting a surprisingly robust crew - for Englishmen - and she has run two more through before she even realizes why the world looks brighter suddenly. 

Where usually her hat keeps both the sun and her hair at bay, both now relentlessly block her view, and she almost doesn’t catch the glint of yet another blade swinging her way. She pulls her own weapons up just in time, bracing against the impact. A twinge in one wrist, but she ducks and slides in under the next attack, cutting into the man’s protective leather and feeling the give when the blade runs him through.

She pulls free, squinting as the falling body lets the sun hit her eyes again. Shit. Scanning for anyone still moving and not an ally, she spots Jack fending off a man she immediately knows has the upper hand. He’s gotten better with a sword over the years, but fighting is still never Jack’s strong suit and Anne will never understand why his pride won’t allow him to hang back. 

_He’s worth more to the ship a whole coward than a brave remnant,_ is her irritated thought as she slides to swipe the legs out from underneath Jack’s opponent, her sword at an angle that it catches him in the vulnerable softness of his side as he falls. 

“Uhm, thank you - _I had that_ \- ” Anne doesn’t even need to look to know the expression Jack is wearing as she shifts to stand at his back. Annoyance, shame. Useless, but it’s Jack so -

“Welcome,” and they’re rushed by what must be the last of the men who haven’t heard their captain’s surrender - obviously having targeted the two scrawniest targets. His mistake, then. He’s dead before he even realizes she’s not in front of him anymore, or that her sword is sticking out his throat. 

“Anne - “ The confusion in Jack’s voice makes her pause in wiping her blade on the dead man’s vest, and the sun glints in her eyes again. Fuck. She looks around at the carnage of the deck - the remaining privateers corralled together amidst the blanket of bodies. They both spot it - Jack moves at the same time she does. Her old hat lies next to the body of the man she’d sliced open. Bastard Fuck’s sword must have caught it when she ducked - it lies torn -uselessly open at the top and side on the ground and she feels. 

Fuck.

It’s fucking stupid - this feeling that rises in her throat - too exposed, too visible.

Too - 

“Here.” And the sun is blocked out again, abruptly. 

It feels different - the leather is higher quality than her old one had been and one side is shaped to turn up instead of out at the side. Under the hand she brings up to feel it, the leather is soft, supple, where her old one had been beginning to crack under the salt and sun. 

She has to tilt her head to meet Jack’s eyes again and the familiarity of that need brings back her equilibrium.

“Welcome,” Jack says, an intentionally lilting tone to his voice as he mimics her words back to her. But the look in his eyes says he knows - knows how and why and as usual she doesn’t have to say a fucking thing. Jack knows.

**Author's Note:**

> Join me on tumblr @ im-the-punk-who for more feelings about hats?? Fic also [crossposted to tumbler!](https://im-the-punk-who.tumblr.com/post/625475334702301184/jack-rackham-ann-bonny-non-romantic-options)


End file.
